Introduced
by Crazylanie93
Summary: "You're afraid of crows?" It was almost a statement. The half-repressed memory tugged at his awareness, and he tried to shove it away. He was only nine or ten when it happened… Crane/Scarecrow origin story.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, like I said, this is a oneshot for now, but could be continued if people like it and wanted me too... :) Hope you enjoy! :D**

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The lights pulsed around him. Booming bass and screaming voices grated at his eardrums. He hated places like this- stupid clubs just outside of the Narrows that made regular citizens of Gotham feel risky, and some of the riskier thugs feel a little safer doing business with 'posh' members of the city.

But as much as he hated it, coming here was a vital step in succeeding with his experiments. There was just something so… satisfying about seeing the difference between their faces in pure bliss and ecstasy, and their faces when facing their worst imaginable fear.

He watches the bouncing crowd for a short time, but is losing his patience. He wishes he could just use the psychos he deals with every day, but someone might notice. It's better to just use someone here in this dingy nightclub because it can't be traced back to him. Things go wrong in places like these every day. No one would suspect a high-end doctor at Arkham to be in a place like this.

The presence in his head is beginning to get impatient. It wants to _move_.

"Not yet." The doctor would appear to be talking to himself, but luckily it goes unnoticed by the civilians around him. The presence is getting more defined, and it actually makes the doctor nervous because he can't figure out what _exactly_ it is. It's not a split personality, it's not some sort of stupid ghost story, it's an actual presence with its own thoughts and desires. And the doctor isn't sure what to do about it yet.

A woman in a revealing dress saunters toward him and he represses a gag. It's not that he doesn't appreciate a good time with a woman, but when women come to places like this and try to act sexy and attractive, it just revolts him more than anything.

"Hello, there." She says with a wink. She has long, wavy hair, and her makeup looks like it's caked on. She might be a good subject, but the presence in his head disagrees. She's all too predictable. She wouldn't last, and would be a waste of the five minutes it would take for her to succumb to his newest formula.

The doctor doesn't even acknowledge her presence, and gets up with a silent sigh. He passes right by her and ignores her protests. He scans the crowd, looking for someone new.

There were the people in the showy crowd, who thought all it took was a short dress and lip gloss to make a man follow them out of here. There were the bar-groupies that only wanted someone to buy them a drink. There were the chair-warmers, who would be sitting in the same place all night just waiting for someone to notice them. And then there were the roamers. People that couldn't make up their minds on where to go, but would enjoy the whole place throughout the night.

A roamer was probably best qualified to be a subject. No one could remember them because they never stayed in one place for very long; making it very hard to have a determined witness if they happened to go missing.

He passed by a few groups of people, searching for the right person. Drinks spilled and sloshed all over him, and he had to hold back his temper. He wanted nothing more than to set this whole place on fire and watch as the gas affected them all, but he knew that wasn't going to help anything, so he tried to control it.

There. A woman was standing on the edge of the dance floor. To others, she probably looked stuck up and important, but he could see through it. Her eyes scanned the audience a little too quickly. She shifted her weight back and forth like she was nervous and trying to convince herself that everything was fine.

He grinned.

He walked over to her with a relaxed saunter, and then looked around innocently.

"You looking for someone?" He asked in a smooth voice.

She glanced back up at him, and he read the emotions flicker across her face. Irritation, spite, and calculation. But no _fear_… He wondered why she didn't fear this stranger.

"No. He's not here." She said, looking back at the crowd.

"So 'no', you're not looking for someone, or 'no' he's not here?" His voice was a little too sharp.

"That's none of your business." She snapped.

"Well, I'm sorry." He said, trying to ignore the increasing irritation of the presence inside his head. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Doctor-"

_NO!_ The voice shouted in his head. _Have you gone insane?! You can't give her your real name! Do you want to get us killed?!_

He froze. The presence actually talked to him. It had its own speech now. This was getting out of control. He grabbed his head and shook it back and forth quickly.

"You're a freak." The woman said, flipping her hair and hurrying away.

The presence imagined her frightened face as they leered over her…

"Stop." He said to it.

_You know you wanted to see it too…_ The voice thought. _Maybe even more than_ I _did_…

The doctor shook his head a bit, and scanned the room for the woman again. He may have made a slight mistake, but it didn't mean the night was a complete waste of his time.

_Just find someone new… _

Now that the presence had found its voice, it apparently wasn't going to shut up. The doctors head was beginning to ache, but whether that was due to the voice or the music in the club he wasn't sure.

He scanned the room once more, but gave up after another comment from his head. He put his hands in his pockets and sulked out of the club. He drove home feeling slightly nauseous and getting more and more irritated as the voice became clearer.

After shutting his front door, he slumped down the wall with his head in his hands.

_Aren't you going to take an Advil or something?_ The voice asks sarcastically. _Because I thought that was the reason you decided to waste the night feeling sorry for yourself._

"Stop talking to me!" He shouted. "Just leave me alone!"

_Ha! Nice try_, doctor, _but I feel pretty permanent. It's not like I can ask you to just stop existing. Face it, you created me, and now here I am!_

"No, no no no no….." He moaned.

_Jonathan Crane_. Listen _to me_! _You want to create fear, right? I was _created_ by fear. I know exactly how it works. I can help you get want you want, don't you see? We're partners. _

"I belong inside a cell at Arkham." He said.

_No you don't! You deserve to have a statue in front of it! Or better yet, in front of the capitol! Just think of the possibilities now that you have help! _

He could feel the determination of the presence and the excitement of the future's possibilities.

Anarchy. Revolution. Hierarchy. Him in control of it all… The world run on fear. It sounded perfect.

But it wasn't right! Not that the doctor cared about laws and morals, but if he _was_ going to be in charge, he wanted to be mentally sane enough to enjoy it. He wasn't planning on a second 'voice' to his judgment.

_Two heads are better than one…_

"Will you just shut up for a second so I can think?!"

The image of a onyx colored bird flashed behind his eyelids, and he cringed back, moving his hands to protect his face. After a moment, he realized that there really wasn't a real bird there, but the presence was trying to show him something.

_You're afraid of crows?_ It was almost a statement.

The half-repressed memory tugged at his awareness, and he tried to shove it away. He was only nine or ten when it happened… A faint shimmer tingled down his arms and back.

The presence pushed the memory away without prying, and the doctor felt the immediate relief.

"I guess two heads _are _better than one…" He allowed.

_Excellent_. The voice whispered.

"I know this may sound weird, but do you want some sort of name or something?" He asked.

The image of the crow came back with a flash and disappeared, making the man go through the shock and relief process once again.

_Scarecrow. You can call me Scarecrow._


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, you guys seemed to like it, and I myself liked it enough to continue it. Basically (and obviously) this is before Batman begins, but I do see it as Nolanverse, and see Jonathan as Cillian Murphy (Who is *awesome* by the way...) Anyway, hope you all enjoy, and send me a review if it's not too much trouble. They make me feel like my writing isn't a complete waste of time. :) **

**I don't own Batman, or anything related... But I'm asking Santa for the rights for Christmas... ;) haha**

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"That's kind of stupid, don't you think?" Crane asks the presence.

The image of a thousand black birds floods his mind, and he can almost feel the scratching and pecking of their beaks and claws. He throws his arms up as his entire body quivers as he falls over to the ground.

_I take your fear, and control it and you think that's stupid?_ The voice says harshly. _Would you rather call me something _really_ stupid_ _like Frank, or maybe Nick? That'll sure put fear in the heart of your enemies._

The image disappears, and Crane sits up tiredly. He wipes the sweat from his forehead, and then takes his glasses off. "I see your point. Scarecrow is a pretty good name."

_Alright Johnny boy, now let's get some work done, shall we? _

"Johnny boy? How old am I, ten?"

_Mentally_. The voice scoffed. _Now let's move_.

"Not tonight. You've given me a serious migraine." Jonathan says tiredly, rubbing his temples.

_Perhaps you're right… I do feel a little worn out._

"You haven't done anything, tonight. How can you possibly be tired?"

_It's more difficult than you can imagine, being stuck in someone else's head. I wish I could actually _move_ around by myself to do something. _

"I see your point. Tomorrow, we will continue our experiments. Sleep for now… well, rest or whatever."

_Ha_. He thought tiredly.

* * *

The next evening Jonathan drives back to the same club. He hadn't taken anyone last night, so he felt safe enough returning without causing suspicion. He pays the cover fee, and glides inside smoothly; an aura of confidence and ease around him.

Scarecrow is alert and focused, and it almost surprises Jonathan to feel the intensity of the presence's focus. Jonathan had always thought himself a scientist in the study of fear, but Scarecrow made Jonathan's obsession seem like child-like interest.

_I told you already; I was created by fear. When you gassed yourself with that stuff, it woke me up. You could say that I'm your obsession personified. Now all I'm missing is a face…_

The doctor weaves through the drunken bodies, looking for another roamer. He doesn't have as much patience as he did the night before, so he scans he room quickly. He sees plenty of guys, but he doesn't want to try with one of them. It's easier to get a woman to follow him out of there than a man. With men things get… awkward.

_Are you afraid to talk to a man?_ Scarecrow snickers. _It's not like you're actually going to do anything with him. You just need to get him to your "work space."_

"Women are easier. Now shhh, I don't want people to notice me yet."

_Whatever_.

Jonathan passes a few drunken girls, but can recognize that they are already too far gone. They'll just throw up all over the place and pass out. No need to even think about getting into that mess.

He searches for another ten minutes, but with no luck. He doesn't understand what's taking so long, and is thinking about trying a new place when he sees her. The woman from the day before.

Her clothes are different, and her hair is styled differently, but she still stands on the edge of the group, searching for something. The doctor can't help but be intrigued by her demeanor and walks over to her again.

"Hello." He says smoothly.

She looks at him, and her face turns down into a scowl. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to apologize for my weird behavior last night. I had a couple weird drinks, you know?" The lies flowed without hesitation.

"It's not a big deal."

"Yes it is. I made a fool of myself, and I didn't mean to frighten you."

She scoffs. "Frighten me? That didn't even give me the goose bumps."

He tries to contain his smile of excitement. "You don't scare easily?"

"No way. I grew up on horror shows. In fact, I couldn't even tell you what I really am afraid of… I guess I'm not that easily scared."

"Well that's good." He smiles politely.

"So what are you doing here tonight, Doctor?"

"Doctor?"

"Last night you were in the middle of introducing yourself, but you stopped after "doctor." Why, was that a lie?"

"Oh no. Sorry, I had forgotten. My name is Doctor Frank Anderson. I'm a veterinarian downtown."

_Told you Frank wasn't a scary name_… Scarecrow interrupts.

Jonathan ignores him, and shakes the woman's hand.

"I'm Jess Reynolds. Nice to meet you."

"Well, Miss Reynolds, can I buy you a drink?"

"Oh, no thanks." She looks down. "I actually don't drink much."

"Even better. How about a coffee?"

"That actually sounds pretty good right now." She laughs softly. "You're not some sort of creeper, right?"

"You caught me."

They both laugh as he escorts her past the blaring music and into the night.

"I'm actually pretty new to Gotham, so I don't know where the good places are… Do you?" She asks lightly.

"I know a great little place a few blocks south of here. We can walk if that's okay with you."

"Yeah, sure."

Her heels click against the ground in a smooth rhythm, and Crane has to remind both himself and Scarecrow to be patient. Just a few more minutes…

When they're about a block away from the "coffee shop," Crane pats his pockets in a worried motion. "Well that's inconvenient." He sighs.

"What's wrong?"

"My wallet is at home." He curses under his breath.

"Oh." She sounds disappointed, and he waits a moment to let her emotions set in.

"But my apartment is only a block from here…" He says in a persuasive tone. "Normally I wouldn't ask, but do you think we could swing by there real quick so I can grab it?"

"Am I gonna get those creeper vibes?" She smiles. "Sure, that's fine."

He laughs and lets the relief show on his face. "Thanks."

He leads her down a side street and toward his set-up apartment. He doesn't really live here, but it's so close to the club that he likes the convenience. They walk up the stairs, and he trns the key in the lock.

"So do you like being a veterinarian?" She asks casually.

"What?"

"Being a vet. Do you like it?" She scrunches her eyes up in confusion.

"Oh, right. Uh, yeah, it's great."

He walks past his living room set up and into the kitchen leaving her in the doorway. The need to act feels like it is crushing him from the inside, and he can't grab the aerosol container fast enough. But soon, so soon, it is in his hand, and a fierce grin lights up his face.

"Did you find your wallet?" She calls from the other room, making his face fall a small bit. She seemed nice enough, and he almost felt like letting her go. Almost.

"Yes." His voice has changed from the alluring and charming Frank Anderson to the smooth calculated Doctor Crane, and she notices the difference. He rounds the corner and walks purposefully toward her, his bright eyes alight with excitement.

"Wait. What is that?"

He brings the can up and watches her face. Puzzlement has gone to confusion, and confusion turns into fear. Finally.

He presses the nozzle.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three! :D Wooo! Thanks to IndigoScrawl and ZenyZootSuit for the reviews! You two are awesome! And thanks to everyone that favorited/reviwed! :D **

**I don't own batman... :'(**

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The white mist sprays out in a burst and envelops her confused face. She sucks in a shocked breath, and his face turns up in a twisted grin.

She starts coughing and a frightened moan comes from her huddled form.

"How do you feel, Jessica?" His voice is low.

"No. No, No! Don't call me that!" She yells, stumbling backwards and thrashing wildly. She hits the wall and falls over, swinging her arms around her.

He walks over to her calmly and crouches next to her. Her eyes don't focus on anything in particular and he is pleased to see that they have dilated in fear.

"What do you fear?" He asks quietly.

Her eyes search for his voice but she doesn't find him. She lets out a small whimper and he clenches his fist.

"Tell me!" He says a little louder.

"Please, no!" She begs. "Get away from me!"

_She's fighting it_. Scarecrow muses. _You're too soft on her. Give her something to really make her fear us. _

"How?"

_You're letting your feelings get in the way!_ He chastens. _You're wasting the sample! _

"I'm doing the best with what I have! Have a little patience!"

Scarecrow groans inwardly and retreats to the back of Crane's head, mumbling incoherently. Crane rolls his eyes and focuses on the woman in front of him. Should he give her another dose? It seems to be working correctly, but she hasn't told him what she _fears_ yet, and he's beginning to feel the frustration set in. It shouldn't be taking this long, whether she grew up watching horror movies or not!

Suddenly, Scarecrow is very aware in Crane's head. In fact, Crane hasn't felt him this strong since he first felt the awareness stirring in his mind. Scarecrow is literally pushing against the walls in his head.

"What are you _doing_?" Crane hisses.

Scarecrow ignores him and focuses entirely on moving Crane's right arm. No, _his_ right arm.

Crane's arm begins to shake and he stares at it in disbelief. Scarecrow is close to succeeding in his attempt at his own movement.

"No! Stop it." He says.

"I'm not doing anything!" The woman pleads from the ground, distracting Crane.

His arm comes up and touches his face; completely in command of Scarecrow. Crane's face turns down in disbelief, and Scarecrow expresses the equivalent of a grin. Suddenly, the whole picture flips around, and Crane feels a harsh pressure. He tries to move, but can't even blink his own eyes.

"Excellent." Scarecrow whispers, relishing in the movement of his own body.

_My body!_ Crane thinks harshly. _That's _my_ body!_

"Our body." Scarecrow corrects. "Don't be selfish, Johnny-boy." He stands and grins at his success. This was going to be easy.

"Hello, _girrrl_." He hisses, lowering his voice to a growl.

She answers with a shriek.

"Tell me what you _fearrr_." He grabs her chin and turns her face to face him. Her breathing pitches, and he knows he's lost too much time already. She's almost gone, and he needs to know. She obviously is afraid of _something_ and he's not going to let her go without telling him what it is… "Now!" He commands.

"Death." She whispers.

Her body slumps to the side, and he stand up in disgust. He wasted all his time on _that_? Death? And here he thought that they had finally got someone with a unique fear. Or at least _interesting_….

Scarecrow moves into the other room, and sits at Crane's desk with a huff. All of that time and energy… _Wasted_. It was just sick and wrong.

_Give me back my body_. Crane says.

"Whatever." He feels more tired than after he spoke for the first time. Movement takes a lot more energy than speech. And even his communication with Crane isn't really speech more than it is a thought.

He doesn't fight when Crane pushes for control, and gives it up willingly. Crane on the other hand, sighs deeply and feels an immense joy to be in control again.

"Why would you do that?" Crane demands.

_Just wanted to see if I could_… Scarecrow's voice is drowsy. _Besides, you weren't doing any good. _

"I was doing just fine, thank you. I didn't need your interference.

_I got you your answer, though, didn't I? _

"I suppose… But that doesn't excuse the fact that you crossed a line!"

_Don't test me_… Scarecrow warns.

"Or what? You gonna try to take control again?"

_No. I don't have that kind of energy… _

Instead, an image of the hated ebony bird flashes into Crane's mind, and he lets out a yell.

_Don't forget that I was created on your fear. Not anyone else's but your own. If you want help with it, and with your experiments, I demand respect. Understand? _

Crane breathes in a few breaths to try to calm himself. "Yeah. Yeah I get it."

_Good._ Scarecrow's thoughts fade to the back of Crane's mind and he takes a few minutes to catch his breath. He then gets to work. He needs to record everything that has been happening and he has to do it now, while it's fresh.

A few days later, Crane has to return to work. He had already gotten rid of any evidence of his stay at the apartment, and was feeling frustrated. He hated to admit it, but he was almost afraid to try again because Scarecrow might try to take over.

He's in his office writing a report, while also trying to ignore Scarecrow's increasingly annoying comments. He's beginning to have a near-constant headache but whether it's actually physical or purely psychological is the question. Scarecrow's presence is more smug than anything, and Crane does his best to ignore it. Yeah, Scarecrow was definitely more effective in getting the information out of the woman than Crane was, but Crane could have definitely gotten the information out of her if Scarecrow hadn't interfered and wasted the crucial minutes.

_Sore Loser_… Scarecrow adds.

"This isn't a competition. It's about science. Now let me concentrate.  
The Amygdala glad is located in the temporal lobe of the brain. Not much is known about this small and almond-like glad, but through my studies, I have made connections between this small part of the brain and fear. Not only does fear stem from this gland, but it also houses memory and emotional ties to a frightening situation."

_Small and almond-like?_ Scarecrow repeats.

"Yes. Why?"

_I think you're describing where I reside. _

"What?"

_That paper you're writing… It's all very familiar to me. Of course I'm not a physical presence in here, but I can almost _feel_ the areas of your brain. And what you're describing sounds like my… main-hub so to speak. _

"Than my fear toxin has nothing to do with the central nervous system at all! It goes right to the source of fear." The doctor's eyes light up in wonder. "It's a true success. I'm not just replicating fear, I really am _creating_ it!"

_Yes. Did you really think I showed up because you replicated fear? I told you I was the real thing._

"This is amazing." He breathes.

The phone on his desk rings, and he takes a moment before answering it. He feels like gloating and ruling now that he has solved his own question, but he has to remain in control.

"This is Doctor Crane." He says smoothly and purposefully.

"I think that is time to move our operation forward, Crane."

Oh no.

Crane knows that the only reason _he_ would be calling him at work is if he was serious, and his heart sinks because if there is one person that he _does_ fear, it's the man the voice belongs too. Although not strong or threatening alone, Ra's al ghul has plenty of connections that can squash Crane like a bug without his cooperation. And it's not like Crane doesn't want to help. After all, Ra's gave Crane the means to begin his toxin experiments. Without that flower from Asia, it would have taken _years_ for Crane to get his formula right.

"How soon, sir?" He maintains control of his voice, and Scarecrow laughs at the show.

"Am I right in assuming you have made progress with your formula?"

"Yes. Yes I have."

"What form is it?"

"Aerosol for the completed toxin."

"Can it be put into a liquid?"

"Like what?"

"Could you put in in water, but keep the toxicity?"

Crane ran a few calculations through his head. "Yes, but it wouldn't have the same effect. It wouldn't be active in its liquid form."

"I need you to start full production. Get as much of the liquid formed as you can, and I'll send you the supplies you need."

"How?"

"I have my ways. Your first delivery will be in a week. I expect you to begin full production after you receive the first shipment, do you understand?"

"Yes sir. What do I do with the finished product?"

"Dump it all into the water mains. There are several lines below Arkham, and I bet you can find a way to get to them."

"Alright."

"Soon Gotham will be cleansed, and you can begin to rebuild, Crane."

"Thank you, sir."

The line disconnected and Crane couldn't help the excitement begin to build in his chest. Of course it was nerve-wrecking to have an unexpected call from Ra's himself, but the prospect of things moving forward makes Crane smile. Soon, he will be the one in charge, and everyone will know what true fear feels like.


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's a new update! :D Hope you all enjoy... **

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Within a week, Crane has everything he needs. He's found the basement empty, and bought off a janitor to give him the elevator key. Some of the "well-behaved" prisoners have group therapy, and he gets the location moved guard-free to the basement. It's all or nothing now, and although he's nervous moving things this close to the chest, he has faith in Ra's promise.

He moves all of the supplies he has on stock to the Asylum's basement, and awaits the shipment of the formula's key ingredient. The powder made from the blue flower is potent, but predictable. The thing that had originally attracted Crane to the League of Shadows was the opportunity to experiment and create more. Sure, he could see Ra's point about the dying and decaying Gotham city, but he had no real solidarity with the League. When he had had enough of their games, and he was in charge, he would be safe enough to branch off on his own. He was definitely looking forward to that day.

Scarecrow was beginning to become inpatient. He was ready to instill fear in to every creature that dared to look in their direction, and create madness from a calm moment. But Crane wasn't ready yet. Crane was having a harder and harder time trying to suppress Scarecrow's desires with diminishing success.

Scarecrow couldn't figure out why Crane was in such deep denial. Fear was everything Crane ever wanted and now Scarecrow was here to make it a reality. What was holding them back?

"I'm not 100 percent… sure." Crane admitted.

_I know as well as you do that this is what you have dreamed of. Just think of the possibilities!_

"But I was supposed to be the sane one! Not the commander that claims a voice is telling him what to do! People will call me mad."

_Then you will gas them and show them what true madness is. And then you will kill them to show that only you can rule. _

Crane couldn't believe how difficult of a decision it was to act. The hope of achieving his dreams warring with the dread that he has some form of newly introduced mental illness made it hard to see a clear decision.

_I'm not some man-made illness, and you know that. Don't try to excuse or think away the truth. Accept what you've been given, and embrace it. _Feel_ the fear take hold and fight for what you dream. _

"I'm sorry. This is just a lot to get used too…"

_I understand that Johnny-boy, but time is running out. Our secret is going to be exposed soon, and we need to be prepared. _

"I know. I just need a little more time."

* * *

_Wake up, Johnny…_

It's two in the morning, and Crane has finally gone to bed. He rolls over, but exhaustion keeps him from rousing. It turns out that it is a lot of work getting everything organized but still kept a secret at Arkham.

_Johnny-boy, I said, wake _up_! _

Crane still doesn't stir, and Scarecrow is getting frustrated.

_If you don't wake up, I'm gonna do it myself_. He warns. After a few more seconds of silence, he gives up. _Fine_.

He had taken the last week to subtly learn the ins and outs of Crane's head. Mostly while Crane was asleep so he wouldn't take particular notice to his shuffling. By now, he is pretty sure he can take control a little easier now, but he's sure it still is going to take a lot of energy. Maybe if he's lucky, Crane won't even notice.

He extends his awareness out to the edges of Crane's mind, pushing against its walls. It's his mind now, and attached to it is Scarecrow's body. Crane's mind feels the intrusion, and stirs gently, but recognizes Scarecrows presence as familiar, and relaxes. Scarecrow continues pushing, and soon feels the releasing feeling that allows him to spread his awareness out and through his body. Crane on the other hand, is pulled into the recesses of his own mind, and for the moment, stays oblivious, lost in the world of dreams.

Scarecrow opens his eyes and stands up, relishing the feeling of freedom. He now had a body, but he needed his own face… It was something that had been bothering him since the last time he had taken control.

Something like a mask would do, and several of Crane's memories show him a few options. Bright plastic faces smile and grimace from the images, and Scarecrow shakes his head. He wanted to create something _more_… Something that would not only create fear, but create something that would last a lifetime of cowering and quaking at the mere _thought_ of him. An ordinary mask couldn't do that.

So what options did he have? Material was important. He didn't want the boring plastic, and a ski mask was out before he even considered it. He covers his face with his hands and sighs deeply. He has no idea where to start. Something demonic? Nah, too cliché. No face at all; a blank slate? Possible… but not really enough to cause fear…

Crane's subconscious thoughts catch his attention. He appears to be having a nightmare. Thousands of crows fly in a vortex above him. His legs are paralyzed with fear. Scarecrow would normally smile at such an image, but he feels a brother-like attachment to the man and wants to help. But before he does anything, Crane helps himself. A glowing figure appears beneath the swirling vortex of feathers and beaks. The birds begin scattering and cawing wildly causing Crane to huddle in fear. When the majority of crows were gone, Crane lifts his head warily, and looks for what caused them to leave. An average scarecrow held up by a wooden post sits 20 yards from him, a sewn smile on its stationary face. Its black button eyes seem to challenge him and he gets to his feet slowly…

Scarecrow withdraws from Crane's dreams, the image of the Scarecrow's face in his thoughts. It was made of burlap… That might make a scary face. He obviously wouldn't make it with button eyes or a _smile_…He shivers at the thought.

He walks into the kitchen and shuffles through the cupboards. He knows there's something around here, he just has forgotten where… Ah. There. A forgotten burlap bag of potatoes. It will do for now.

He dumps the rest of the brown vegetables out in the sink and shakes the dust and dirt crumbs from the bag. It's actually in pretty decent shape and he grins. It will do…

A short time later, Crane's subconscious has noticed the intrusion. Crane 'wakes' up slowly, still believing he's in a dream. Why else would Scarecrow be in control of everything?

_Nope. You're awake, Johnny-boy._ Scarecrow snickers. _Like it?_

Crane tries to figure out what is going on, but feels fuzzy. Waking up but being confined his head is disorienting, and it takes a moment to focus on Scarecrow's point. Although, after a second of thinking, it may not be Crane's eyes that are fuzzy, but the fact that scarecrow is wearing a mask impeding his vision. Why can he smell potatoes?

_Focus, Crane._

Crane finally manages to see through the crudely cut-out eye holes and can't believe what he sees. They are standing in front of the bathroom mirror and the refection shows that they are wearing some sort of home-made mask made from burlap. There are two small cuts for eyes, and a stitched smile which surprisingly makes it more sinister rather than endearing. He's also wearing one of his suits for work, which brings the mask out nicely. The overall image is something powerful. Something amazing. Something _frightening_…

"Embrace it, Johnny. Feel the freedom. Feel what it is like to truly cause fear in the hearts of the sniveling citizens of this forsaken city."

_You're right._ Crane agrees. _I can see your point now. _

"You've been holding back, Johnny, and it's because your denying your past. To truly move forward with this, you need to confront it."

Crane immediately retreats mentally. _No, no, no… I don't think I can._

"You're still plagued with nightmares and insecurities. You need to face your fear in order to be in control. I'll help you. That's why I'm here, remember."

_You don't understand… I can't._

"How can you truly make your victims see their true fear when you deny your own? You can't Johnny. This needs to be done."

No. Crane tries to gain control of his movements, and Scarecrow lets him. As soon as it's over, Scarecrow let's his true intentions be seen by Crane.

_I have more mental power in here, than out there, Johnny. I'm going to help you face your fear. It won't be that bad…_

"No. Stop it now." Crane orders.

_Get ready, Johnny. We start now… _

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**Hope you all enjoyed! And hey, I would just love it if you would send me a quick review... ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Another update! Woohoo! :D **

**Fair warning, this chapter has references to mild child abuse. (Although child abuse itself is never mild.) Nothing portrayed represents my opinion or moral standards. It is a complete work of fiction. **

**I don't own Batman or anything related, but my OC's are mine.**

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Scarecrow digs deep into Crane's memories, searching for what he had been interested in since the beginning. He knew the good doctor was afraid of crows, but the vital question was _why_? Memories of girlfriends, sicknesses, and college days flew by; not one of them catching his attention.

Crane on the other hand, tries to stay focused on distracting Scarecrow with other memories while ignoring the ones already flying through his thoughts. He throws pictures of frightened and cowering victims at Scarecrow, hoping to peak his interest but to no avail. Scarecrow is determined to find the source of Crane's fear. He _will_ find it and prove to Crane that he can deal with it.

In the memories, Crane is getting younger. It's like they are watching a movie of his life in rewind. They skip through the bullied years of middle school and things start to get a little foggy. Elementary memories aren't stored as well as fresh ones, but the memory Scarecrow is searching for should be clearer than the rest. After all, how else could it still inflict its steely claws of fear into Crane after all these years if it weren't traumatic and life-changing?

He knows he's found it when he hits a mental wall. It's not thick and shouldn't take long for Scarecrow to get through it, but he decides to try and preserve his energy first.

_Can you take this down? _

Crane is exhausted from the memory montage. Half-forgotten memories are now fresh in his mind, and he feels it is enough for one day. He lifts his clammy hands to his face, and pulls off the dirty mask. Small streaks of dirt from the inside rub off against his nose, and he wipes them off just as slowly.

"I'm not sure…" He hedges.

_I know you just put this one up Johnny-boy. I can feel how fresh it is. I could just go through it, but I feel like you should give your permission to do it. You know I'm only trying to help you._ Scarecrow almost sounds genuine, but Crane can hear the poorly hidden excitement to Scarecrow's thoughts. He knows that all Scarecrow has wanted from him was this memory, which is why he tried so very hard to protect it.

On the other hand, Scarecrow really does have a point. If he could just accept this memory and move past it, he would be in even better control. If he loved fear so much, why did he run from it?

"Okay." He says in a tired voice. The wall falls down, and Crane takes one more breath to prepare himself.

_"But I don't want to go to Jezzie's house, mom! Please don't make me go!" Crane is only about seven, and is wearing old tattered clothing in various shades of brown. His mother is dragging him by the arm toward an tall eerie home that by all rights should be condemned. The paint is old and peeling, and all of the windows are broken on the first floor. The yard is overgrown in some patches, and other patches are bare with pale dry dirt._

_"Jonathan. I've told you already that mommy has to go now. You can stay with your aunt Jezebel until I come back, okay?" His mother crouches down to his level and sweeps the hair out of his eyes. _

_"But she's scary…"_

_"Don't be afraid, Jonathan. She just takes some getting used too, that's all."_

_"What about daddy?"_

_"Daddy's gone, honey. We've talked about this."_

_"Where's he go? Why was he so mad?" The child's voice shakes a little._

_"It's going to be alright now. We need to hurry."_

_"But mommy…" His voice gets the subtle hint of a whine. "She's really really scary!"_

_"Jonathan, listen to me. There's nothing to fear but fear itself. Remember that."_

_"What's that mean?"_

_"You'll understand soon, darling." She kisses his forehead once, and stands up, taking his hand and leading him to the door. She knocks and a few moments later the door opens. Crane half-hides behind his mother, and looks up at his aunt. She has greasy black hair that falls into her face, and eyes so dark brown they almost appear black as well. She wears all black clothing that smells like moth balls and has a slight hunch to her back. Her nose is larger than usual and curves down almost like a beak of some crouched bird, waiting to pounce on Crane's huddled form as soon as his mother left._

_She doesn't say a word and only glares at Crane's mother. An awkward moment passes, and his mother seems lost in Jezebel's eyes. She composes herself though, and crouches down to the boy's level again. _

_"I love you, Jonathan. Remember that and be a good boy, okay?" Her eyes shine with tears that she tries to wipe away before he notices._

_"When are you coming back?" He asks in a small voice._

_"In a little while…" She looks away. _

_"That's enough." Jezebel interrupts in a raspy voice. "Get outta here before they drag me into all this nonsense." _

_"Thank you." Crane's mother stands up, looking at Jezebel. "Take good care of him."_

_She hurries down the front steps and glances one last time back at Crane. She covers her mouth with her hand, and turns away, jogging down the path and out of sight._

_"Come, boy." Jezebels voice has turned even colder and Crane follows her inside the house slowly. _

_…._

_Several years have passed and Crane is almost ten. He hates Jezebel and life in general. She has him out in the corn field today, collecting crops and he has been working for hours. He wants to take a break, but he knows she's watching him from the upstairs window. If he stops at all, she'll punish him for it. He pulls the husks from their stalks with a vengeance, stuffing them in a bag as he mutters under his breath. Ever since his mother left him here, his aunt has treated him like garbage; ordering him to do things a normal child would never have to do. Insanely difficult tasks, and changing her mind halfway through so he had to do twice the work. _

_The worst part of living there was her pet. She had a crow that had open access to all parts f the house. When he first saw it, it was in an ornate golden cage in her study. She wanted him to clean it, and handed him an old toothbrush. He had stuck his hand inside and the bird pecked at it several times before he could pull it out again. Aunt Jezebel had called him several names he didn't understand, and took the bird out of the cage; cooing to it and telling it that the little monster would be leaving soon anyway. It took Crane a few days to realize he was the monster she was referring to. From that moment on, she let the bird roam around the house, and rewarded it when it attacked Crane. It trained quickly, and soon, everywhere Crane went around the house he was tormented by the evil bird. _

_Crane puts another husk into his bag and walks toward the house to empty it out. When he returns to the field, he wanders to a new place to get more of the vegetables. He starts plucking when he hears a small noise. He pulls a stalk to the side and sees an injured crow on the ground. It seems to have some sort of internal injury and is flapping its wings spastically without any real purpose or intent. It makes several choked cawing sounds and continues to flop. Crane watches it with a morbid curiosity and as the bird dies, he smiles. _

_It's not Jezebel's pet, but it still gives Crane immense satisfaction to see the horrid bird fall still. He runs back to the house, and hears the pet crow nearby. He grabs a pan off the counter and is caught up relishing in the image of a still bird. The crow soon finds him and flies toward him, a hideous caw coming from its beak. He swings the pan hard and smiles as he feels the impact. The bird squawks and ands on the floor in front of him. It sputters and twitches much the same as the wild one in the field. _

_His smile lasts one moment too long as Jezebel bursts into the room. Her face contorts in horror as she sees the bird, which quickly turns into a raw rage as she turns to Crane. _

_"What did you do to my precious angel!?" She cries. She stalks toward him and grabs him by the throat. He is lifted off the ground and can't breathe. Although it is by far the most frightening moment in his life, he can't hide the smile of victory from his face. The hated bird can no longer torment him with its claws and beak. He can finally begin to relax a little. _

_She throws Crane to the ground and turns to the dying bird quickly. She picks it up gently and Crane's face turns down into a ten year old's version of a snarl._

_He was punished severely for his actions. He didn't eat for three days and he was working from dawn till dusk on chores. It went on for several weeks and eventually he ran away from the terrible place his mother had left him. His aunt didn't care in the least. She never called the police or even attempted to find him. She had never wanted him in the first place, and having him gone was a relief._

_He travelled through the city, staying to the shadows and telling people that asked that he was with his parents. He had learned to lie young and was very convincing. But the lies could only take him so far. One day, a cop saw him stealing an apple from a fruit stand and demanded to know where exactly his parents were. Crane tried to lie his way out of it, but the cop took him to the station. After no one claimed him, and because his records weren't found in the database, the cops turned him over to a boy's home. _

_He considered himself happy there. They fed and clothed him, but something was always… off. _

_Several months passed and Crane got into a loose schedule. He went to classes, and did more age-appropriate chores. He was belittled and made fun of by the other boys, but soon grew numb to it. All he wanted was to have his mother back, and he dreamed that one day she would walk in the doors and find him._

_One day, the boys all took a field trip to a farm. It was near Halloween and they could all pick out a pumpkin that they would carve later on that evening. Crane wandered off from the group because a group of boys had dared him to go into the corn field alone and sit there for at least ten minutes without chickening out. Crane considered it a mild dare, and sauntered into the field without a backwards glance. He continued to the middle of the field and sat cross-legged in the dirt. He could wait ten minutes easily._

_After about five minutes he heard a bird caw close to where he was sitting. He remembered what had happened at Jezebel's farm and a small smile turned up his face. Another caw sounded a few yards away followed by a third. Crane was confused because he thought that farms usually didn't have a bird problem, let alone multiple birds. _

_He stood up and looked around. He could see a few birds in the branches, but could hear noises from all around. He started backing up and only made it several paces when his foot crunched into something. He looked down and lifted his foot out of a random birds nest; pieces of shattered eggshell and yolk clinging to his shoe. It takes a moment to register the answering silence._

_He looks up and sees a crow looking at the nest. He turns his face and sees another doing the same. Another moment passes in silence until everything breaks loose. Birds fly everywhere. Wings clip the child's shoulder and caws pierce his eardrums. Everywhere he looks crows fill his vision. He forgets where he is, and loses control of his emotions. Tears spring to his eyes and he runs blindly through the squawking mass, calling for his mother. He loses control of his bladder and when he finally makes it out of the throng of birds, he runs sobbing to his group. The children all pause what they are doing to look at the crying boy and it takes another moment before they start laughing. His entire group of so called peers laugh and point at Crane's bedraggled form, and he feels lower and more afraid than he has in his entire life. He even catches the eyes of a snickering teacher and knows in that one moment that he is alone. He didn't have anyone in the entire world that cared about him. And he was going to make the world pay for it._

The memory fades to a close, both Scarecrow and Crane are silent. Reliving this memory wasn't as bad as Crane had feared it would be, but it was still painful. The traumas inflicted as a child still haunted his dreams and Scarecrow was right to want Crane to face them.

"Well," Crane says in a tired voice. "Now you know."

Scarecrow stays silent; lost in thought in the back of Crane's head. After a few more minutes he asks in a curious voice,

_Did you ever get your revenge on the cow?_

Crane snorts once at the name. "Yeah, but that's a story for another time."

_I'm extremely curious…_ Scarecrow wants to just cheat and find the story himself, but feels patient enough to wait. After all, he had just gotten the answer he had so desperately wanted from Crane. He had enough for one day.

"I'll tell you some other time."

Alright… But I was right, wasn't I? You feel better now.

"Actually I do." Crane's psyche is still a little shaken, but he can feel the difference. He didn't realize just how much his childhood memories had been holding him back, and now that he had faced them he felt some relief from the stress of them. He could already feel the difference in his feelings toward his Arkham projects and dealing with Scarecrow in general. It may have been a little too soon to guess, but he felt confident that his interactions were going to go a lot more smoothly now than they had before.

_Good because there's something we need to talk about. _Scarecrow says in a business-like tone. _There's a man parading around Gotham acting like a vigilante. People are calling him the Batman._

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**Well, there you all go! Hope you enjoyed, and if you want to send me a review, I would absolutely love and appreciate it! :D Thanks! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry it's been awhile! I started doing NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writers Month) But lacked the time to commit to a 50,000 word novel... Between college and home life, it's difficult... Anyways, I realized it had been a long time since I had updated this, so I took some time to write this one out... Now I realiz that I totally went really fast and jumped into the movie about half-way, but I'm trying to bring it all around so it makes sense... Sorry guys. **

**I don't own Batman and any references to scenes and lines in the movie are not mine. **

**Enjoy :)**

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"The _Bat_man? Ha. Yeah, I saw the news. It's no big deal. He's probably just some nut job with a split personality. He's no threat to us."

_He could be if we don't stop him. _

"We're moving things along at Arkham. We're fine. We just need to sit tight until Ra's al ghul gives us more instructions. The phone in his pocket buzzes, and he pulls it out of his pocket. "Speak of the devil…" He pauses and flips it open. "Dr. Crane." He says.

"Have you been following my instructions?" Ra's voice is fluid but serious.

"Yes sir, and I have received your shipments. All of our product is going into the waterline exactly as instructed."

"Good." He seems pleased. "Keep Falcone in the dark. We don't need any extra ends to tie up when this is all over."

"Yes, sir. Is there anything else?"

"Yes. I'm coming to Gotham for the final steps in the process."

"Here, sir?" Crane's voice rises a little in surprise.

"Yes. Prepare everything."

"How soon?"

"Keep your eyes open, Crane."

The line disconnects and Crane shuts the phone. If Ra's comes to Gotham for the final stages, then it will be harder for Crane to take control of the situation. He sighs and Scarecrow whispers encouragement in his head.

_You can still take control. _

"How?" Crane's voice is laced with stress. An image of them gassing Ra's fills Crane's imagination, but he shakes his head. "If we do that than the entire league will be after us."

_We'll make fear bombs. Entire groups of people will be affected from one strike. It will be easy._

"We don't have the funds, nor the supplies for that kind of production yet."

This would be so much easier if I were the one in charge.

"You forget that this is my body, not yours. You're just… _renting_ it."

_Ha_. Scarecrow snorts. _Renting it. It's mine now as much as it is yours. When are you going to get used to that? _

"Let's just agree to disagree for the moment. We have more important things to worry about."

_Like the Batman?_

Crane sighs. "No. About our production and the fact that Ra's al ghul will be here sometime in the near future. Who knows? Maybe he's on a plane right now…"

_Fine. Let's get to work._

When Crane gets to the Asylum, he heads to his office quickly, ignoring his colleagues cheerful greetings. He shuts the door firmly behind him, and sits at his desk, brushing the hair out of his eyes slowly.

_Turn on the news…_

"No… Wait, why?"

_Call it intuition…_

Crane sighs, and shakes his head slowly. "Fine." He flips on the news and sees something that catches his attention. The image of Falcone tied to a spotlight fills the screen, and he narrows his eyes as he turns the volume up.

"No one is sure how exactly the suspected Mob Boss got onto the spotlight," The reporter's voice is narrating, "but one thing is for sure, with the amount of evidence seized at the scene, the district attorney should be able to convict him."

_I bet it was the Bat…_

"What are we going to do now? We needed that shipment of supplies."

_We need to check the drop sight. Now._

"You're right."

He gathers his things quickly and leaves the room, heading toward the elevator. He ignores the people passing him, focused entirely on getting to the basement. It's a moment before he realizes someone is keeping pace with him and talking in an angry voice. He turns to her and it takes another moment to recognize her. Rachel Dawes.

When he had first met her, he thought she was easy to read and almost attractive. Of course he had thought about having a little easy fun with her, but after one conversation he only wanted an excuse to gas her. She was a pompous little thing and it drove him nuts.

"Are you listening to me?" She says, bringing him out of his daze.

"Of course I am, Miss Dawes. You _are _following me after all."

"Well I just wanted to let you know. You have my warning." She glares at him for one more second, and stalks off, heels clicking against the floor.

Crane groans in frustration. He has no idea what she was talking about, but doesn't have the time or real desire to go back and figure it out. He continues briskly to the elevator and turns the key allowing him access to the basement.

When the doors open, he grins. The smell of the product is soft and coying, and reminds him of his success. It hasn't affected him since his first exposure to the trial version, so he doesn't bother picking up a mask from the pile next to the doors. He walks over to the rail and looks down at his work. Masked convicts all work at different stages creating different parts of the mixture. A few of them look up at him, while the majority know enough to stay focused. He sets his suitcase down and decides to see their reaction to his new mask. He pulls it out, and pulls it on, feeling both his joy and Scarecrow's elation at the feeling. It was a unique experience felling both awareness's different feeling toward the mask.

Without really trying to, his posture changed as they both adjusted to the new feeling. His hands curled slightly, and he stood straight. After all, why would a man of his prestige and position slouch around the common citizens? He wouldn't.

He glides down the stairs and one by one the convicts notice him- their faces freezing in mixed emotions. Horror, denial, and best of all, wide-eyed _fear_. It was beautiful.

One man had his back turned to Crane and was distracted with some sort of mp3 player. He was bobbing his head to some beat, and Crane wondered slightly where he had even got the tiny machine. Items like that were never allowed inside of Arkham, even for the employees, so seeing an inmate with it set his teeth on edge. Scarecrow, on the other hand was amused at the mans' guts. He must have been brave to openly flaunt such a piece of technology down here.

Crane continued his hunt, getting closer to the unaware man, as everyone in the room silently held their breath with anticipation. Crane's head tilted slightly and although no one could see, his eyes narrowed. He pulled a small nozzle of gas from his pocket and held it at the base of his suit sleeve.

He was so close now, that he could hear the small buzzing of the music, and even the tiny beats of bass. He reached out his arm and grasped the mans' shoulder, digging his nails in slightly. He was then aware of Scarecrow's exceeding presence. It almost felt like it was actually Scarecrow who had grabbed the man instead of Crane, but that couldn't be right, could it? He flexed his fingers to make sure, and grins when he sees that he is indeed in control. But Scarecrow is with him every mental step of the way.

Meanwhile, the man turned his head quickly with a look of murderous rage that quickly melts into horror as he sees the mask. He looks at it for a few moments in a confused stupor and doesn't know what to do, and Crane is quick to take the advantage.

Crane's hand flies up with the nozzle and a burst of white surges around the man's face. His eyes bulge and his pupils dilate with fear as the gas takes its desired effect.

"_Who said you could take a brrreak_?" Crane's voice has changed and he notices the familiar tone of Scarecrow mixed in with it. The man stares up horror-struck and his lips quiver violently. "_I can't hearrr you…" _Crane growls, pulling the man close to his face.

"N-n-n-nobody…" The man stutters almost incoherently.

"_Then why arrre you taking one_?"

"I don't know, man!" The man's voice is going up with stress, and his eyes seem locked with Crane's. "I don't know!"

"_Do you think this is all just frrree time? That no one cares what you are doing down herrrre_?"

The man just ells and claws at his face, seeing things that aren't there. It fills Crane with pride, and it fills his with satisfaction. Everyone here will see this, and know not to make mistakes in the future.

Even Scarecrow is impressed with the way that Crane is dealing with the situation. He wishes it could physically be _him_ doing all the work, but is happy none the less.

"Wh-wh-what are you?" The man chokes out.

"_Scarecrow_." Crane hisses, feeling the double pride again. He drops the man to the floor and points to three other men. "You two, come with me. The rest of you, clean him up, and get back to work." He reaches down and grabs the small music player from the man's hand, and crushes it beneath his foot with a quick crunch. "Anyone else caught with distractions won't be let off this easily. You've all been warned."

The two men he's chosen step forward and he leads them out of the room quickly. He has enough time to get them to the drop site and back before anyone needs them for something else, and he needs to know if his shipment was compromised in any way.

He leads them down an abandoned hallway with cameras that aren't powered. He knows the ins and outs of the Asylum so well that it sometimes feels like more of a home than his real apartment.

_Probably shouldn't tell people that you prefer a nut house to a regular place_… Scarecrow thinks with a touch of sarcasm.

Crane just shakes his head as a response.

They make it out of the Asylum through a side door, and Crane has the two men wait as he gets his car. They fear him enough that they don't even think about wandering off.

When he pulls up his car, they get in the back seat and eagerly change into the spare clothes that Crane has brought. When they get to the drop site, they get out of the car nervously, but follow Crane's authoritive stride into the apartment complex. Once inside, they shake the rain from their coats and shiver, trying to be subtle, but Crane glares in their direction in agitation anyway.

_Patience… _

Crane ignores Scarecrow's encouragement and heads up the creaky staircase anyway, intent on figuring everything out.

They reach his apartment and he turns the key in the lock quickly, allowing them all inside. He walks into the living room shining a flashlight around rather than using the lights.

He frowns when he sees the small pile of stuffed toys on the chair, realizing there isn't enough. The shipment never made it here and he hides his irritation. With Falcone and the other goons that were caught, it's only a short time before someone squeals and the cops find this place.

"Get rid of all traces." He says quietly, noticing the open doors leading to the patio.

"Torch the whole place." One of the men says.

"Alright." The other agrees.

_Why are the doors open_? Scarecrow wonders, suspicion layering his words.

Crane watches the rain hitting the deck for a moment, keeping his suspicions to himself, as he hears the two men shake gasoline and alcohol around the room. He walks over to the doorway and looks at the ground searching for footprints or something that will confirm his slight suspicions. He hears the toilet seat get lifted up and represses a sigh. Does the guy really have to go now? Why can't he just wait? Did he not realize they were on a schedule?

A moment of silence passes and then the sound of glass breaking makes Crane turn around quickly, looking for the source. Scarecrow also expands his senses, double-checking what they can hear and see around them. Crane sees the goon left in the room walk toward the bathroom, so he walks briskly into the kitchen, pulling his mask out of his suitcase. He pulls it on in an instant and feels the power flow immediately into his system, he turns back into the other room while grabbing another nozzle, and sees a black figure punching the goon. His pointed ears give him away and he realized this must be the famed Batman… How pathetic.

The masked man turns to Crane, and he gasses him without a thought, smiling as the man stumbles and looks around the room anxiously.

"Oh, having trouble?" He picks up an open Vodka bottle and walks toward the stumbling Bat. "Take a seat. Have a drink." He shakes the alcohol over the man's fallen, shaking figure, and smiles behind his own mask. "You look like a man that take's himself a little too seriously."

The Bat flails around, fighting the hallucinations and tripping over himself and Crane feels smug. This is almost too easy. He takes a lighter out of his pocket and flicks it open, smiling at the little flame.

"Do you want my opinion?" He whispers. "You need to lighten up." He grins again at his pun and tosses the lighter across the short distance. The fire catches immediately and the masked Bat is engulfed within moments. He thrashes wildly for a moment and jumps through the open doors before his flames engulf the entire place.

Crane picks up another lighter that had fallen and grabs his suitcase by the hall. He walks from the room quickly, stepping over the unconscious form of the convict. He doesn't have time to try and rouse him. He pauses just a moment before walking out and tosses the lit lighter into the room, and leaves as the heat wave hits his back. The inferno makes the hallway glow with orange light and he leaves the building quickly, before anyone can tie him there.

"I told you the Bat wasn't a problem." He says, business-like and casual.

_He'll be back…_

"A man like that is almost too easy. We have more important things to worry about."

_Don't say I didn't warn you…_

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**Hope you all enjoyed and I hope that I pulled it into the movie plot alright. I'm not going to make the rest a scene by scene line by line thing, but I figured it was an important moment so it could be used here well. Hope you enjoyed and I'll get the next one up asap... :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Alright, as soon as I posted the last chapter, I realized I had skipped an important scene from the film, and it's kind of neccessary in the entire story, so I took some dramatic liberty and brought it back in this chapter. It's not line for line, and I did that on purpose because although the film is fantastic, I'm not writing the film. I'm writing a work of fiction. So yeah. Hope you all enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. Any reference to the movie is used for fictional purposes only and not for profit or anything else but entertainment. Batman belongs to DC and Christopher Nolan.**

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The next morning Crane receives a call informing him that Falcone has cut his wrists and requested to speak with him at the G.C.P.D. He knows Falcone just expects Crane to bust him out or try to blackmail him into doing something so he brings his suitcase and mask.

When he gets to the station, he heads downstairs to the interrogation rooms where a woman is waiting.

"Dr. Crane." She greets, "Thanks for coming."

"Not at all…He cut his wrists?" Even though he's heard the information already, it's procedure to double-check.

"Probably looking for the insanity plea." She looks at him and rolls her eyes. "But, if anything should happen.."

"Of course." He nods. "Better safe than sorry."

They reach the room, and she punches the combination, allowing Dr. Crane inside. He closes the door with a click and sits down at the table across from Falcone with a sigh.

"Yeah, Dr. Crane, I can't take it anymore." Falcone says sarcastically. "It's all too much. The walls are closing in around me, blah blah blah…Well, a couple days o' this food, it'll be true."

"What do you want?" Crane asks in a business like tone. He doesn't want to waste his time here, but he knows he needs to get this out of the way. Falcone doesn't know anything that will cause a lot of problems, but he does know a little.

"I wanna know how'ya gonna convince me to keep my mouth shut." Crane notices several cuts and scratches on the man's face and hopes they sting.

"About what? You don't know anything."

"I know ya' don't want the cops to take a clos'a look at the drugs they seized. An' I know about your experiments with the inmates of ya' little nuthouse." Crane just stares at him and waits for him to finish his petty little speech. He already knows where it's going to lead. "See, I don't go int'a business with a guy without findin' out his dirty little secrets." He laughs, "Ya know, those goons you used... I own the muscle in this town. Now I've been bringin' your stuff in for months, so whateva' he's planning; it's big. And I want in."

It was so predictable it wasn't even funny. But Crane was a little irked off that someone squealed. He'd need to change that and get some guards down in the production room.

"Well, I already know what he'll say." Crane says calmly. "That we should kill you."

Falcone rolls his eyes and scoffs quietly. "Nah, not even he can get me in here… Not in my town."

Crane tried not to laugh. This little mob boss was so cocky it was almost funny. Did he really not see how utterly powerless he was? That he was about to be removed anyway, without the law's interference? This man deserved a little chaos, and not just for Crane's protection. No, this man deserved to see what _fear_ really felt like. Crane sighs, excitement building in his chest.

"Would you like to see my mask?" He tries to keep the pride out of his voice, and Scarecrow comes to the front of Crane's mind, not wanting to miss a moment. "I use it in my experiments." He grins and pops open the briefcase, turning a nozzle to the ready position. He pulls the mask out and shows Falcone. "I know I'm probably not frightening to a guy…like you; but thse crazies? They can't stand it." He grins and puts it on.

"So when did the nut take over the nuthouse?"

Crane feels a rush of irritation at the man and presses the button in the suitcase, releasing the puff of gas into the air.

"_They scream, and they cry_." He stands up, leering at Falcone who now is screaming, his eyes wheeling around the room in a panic. "_Much as you're doing now_." He grins, and turns from the room, ignoring Falcone's yells behind him. He pulls off his mask and puts it back into the case, smirking, and leaves the room quickly, changing his facial expression to one of surprise. He meets the woman in the hallway, and shakes his head.

"Well, he's not faking. Not that one." He says with a slight shake of his head. "I'll talk to the judge and see I can have him moved to the secure wing at Arkham. I can't treat him here." He turns and walks away, a smile of victory lighting up his face.

He couldn't fight the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his body every time he gassed someone. It was like it was a gift he was giving them, and he couldn't wait to see their surprised and fearful faces.

_You deserve this, Johnny-boy._

Crane nods his head, rather than speaking aloud, and pulls out his phone. He doesn't usually call Ra's, but he needs to convey what happened.

He walks outside, and dials his number, surprised when he answers after the first ring.

"What is it Crane?" His tone is clipped.

"I took care of Falcone. He was going to squeal."

"Is he dead?"

"No, but I've taken care of him."

"You and your obsession with that gas." Ra's chuckles under his breath, and the sound of it sets Crane's teeth on edge. "Very well. Anything else?"

"Yes. I need some guards down in production. Someone's been talking with the outside about it."

"And you lack the means to take care of it?"

"No, but I lack the time."

"I don't appreciate you setting grounds for me, Crane. Respect your place in the big picture."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it."

The line disconnects and Crane groans. It seems like he can never have a conversation that actually gets anywhere when he talks with Ra's.

_Soon you'll be the one giving orders…_

"But for now…"

_We wait…_

He next calls the judge and has Falcone's transfer arranged, and when he finishes with that, he heads home with an agenda. He's tired of carrying tiny nozzles of gas, and so when he gets back to his apartment, he fixes a belt with several small canisters attached and then looks at his mask. He isn't affected by most forms of his gas, but he isn't immune to some of his newer formulas. Using spare production materials, he quickly makes a mesh that should filter out chemicals and fastens it to the inside of his mask. It was better to be prepared rather than caught by surprise.

He finishes all of his preparations in about two hours, and heads to his bedroom. He figures he may as well get a nap in before dealing with Falcone again, and who knows how much sleep he'll get when it's time to purge Gotham. Like with the mask, he thought it was better to be prepared.

His cellphone buzzes as he fights off his irritation. Of course no one would need him until he was going to try to sleep. It was just too much to ask for an hour of peace. Oh well.

He answers his phone in a clipped voice. "Dr. Crane."

"Rachel Dawes is here at Arkham and is requesting to see you, Doctor." A woman's voice tells him.

That naïve woman would never keep her nose out of other people's business, would she?

"I'm on my way." Crane grabs his briefcase, and scowls. He was getting closer and closer to gassing her without waiting for a viable excuse.

_Do it anyway. The cops in this town are so crooked they wouldn't care…_

"No. It'll bring too much suspicion on me that I'm not in the mood to deal with yet. Her time will come."

He gets to the Asylum and is directed to where Falcone is being kept. He had suspicions that he was the reason Rachel was here, and wasn't surprised to find out it was true. He heads downstairs and sees her waiting, wearing a look of pompous superiority on her little face. His fingers twitched toward a canister on his belt, but he refrained.

Instead, he adjusts his thin glasses, and greets her in a business-like tone. "Miss Dawes, this is most irregular, I have nothing further to add to the report I filed with the judge."

"I have questions about your report."

Scarecrow imagines wiping the smile off her smug little face, but Crane ignores it.

"Such as?"

"Isn't it convenient for a fifty-two year old man, who has no history of mental illness to suddenly have a complete psychotic breakdown just when he's about to be indicted?"

"Well as you can see for yourself, there is nothing convenien_t_ about his symptoms."

She looks at the glass, and turns back to Crane.

"What's 'Scarecrow?'"

"Patients suffering delusional episodes usually focus their paranoia on an external tormentor. In this case, a scarecrow."

Scarecrow's pride fills Crane's head at his success. He can't wait to make the whole world fear the mere thought of him.

"I want my own psychiatric consultant to have full access to Falcone, including blood-work." She glares at him and stalks down the hall. He follows her at an even pace, and tries to ignore the almost painful urge to take her off her self-absorbed pedestal.

"First thing tomorrow, then." He says calmly as they wait for the elevator.

_Do it….._ Scarecrow urges.

"Tonight." She snaps. "I've already paged county general." That smug little answer tears it. He can't take it anymore. He decides to act.

He pulls out a set of keys from his pocket as they step onto the elevator and turns the lock, allowing them access to the basement.

"As you wish." He says, keeping his face casual.

_Finally… Let me do it! _

Crane shakes his head subtly as they descend. No, Rachel was his problem, and he was going to enjoy every second of her panic.

The doors open and he leads her out, trying to keep his steps casual. "This way, please." He leads her down the hallway and to the rails over-looking production. "This is where we make the medicine." He smiles as he sees the armed guards. Ra's was fast.

He hears her intake of breath, and continues, his voice cracking a little with excitement.. "Perhaps you should have some; clear your head."

She turns and runs back to the elevator, and Crane takes his time following. He pulls his mask on with a smile, and can hear her franticly pushing the buttons inside. He hits the button and as soon as the doors open, he catches a glimpse of her panicked face as it is surrounded by gas.

She screams once, and scrambles backwards, eyes wide with panic, and then goes limp from shock. Crane wasn't expecting her to pass out, but he hadn't tested the concentrated dose enough to make accurate predictions. Two of the guards run into the hallway with their guns out, and Crane sighs.

"Put those down, I need you to carry her."

They glance at each other, but do as he asks. They carry her downstairs, and set her on a table. Her eyes roll around her head and she isn't speaking, but she seems conscious enough.

"_Who knows you're here_?" Crane hisses. She shakes her head back and forth, in denial, breathing heavily. "_Who knows?!"_ He demands. She screams once, and the lights flicker off.

_Stupid Bat…. _

Crane pulls off his mask and looks around the room eagerly, searching for the pathetic vigilante and chuckling under his breath. "He's here."

"Who?" Someone asks.

"The _Bat_man…"

"Whaddo we do?"

"What you always do when a prowler comes around.." He says, and the man gives him a blank look. "Call the police."

"You want the cops here?" Another man asks.

"At this point they can't stop us." He raises his voice. "But the _Batman_ has a talent for disruption. Force him outside, the police will take him down. Go!"

"What about her?"

He looks down at the swerving head of Rachel and feels a sense of revulsion rise up inside. At least he got the opportunity to be the one that took her out of the picture. She needed a taste of fear even more than Falcone did.

"She hasn't got long; I gave her a concentrated dose. The mind can only take so much." He smiles. "Now, go!"

Another man walks up to him with a worried expression, and Crane smiles at the man's silly fear.

"The things they say about him; can he really fly?"

Crane wants to laugh at the man, but holds back, looking for the Bat. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

The black form drops from the ceiling and grabs the gun out of a guards surprised hands, shooting another in the foot. He then continues to fight the rest of the surprised and frightened guards, and Crane moves under a staircase to observe, pulling on his mask. The Bat takes out all of the guards in only a few seconds, and Crane knows it's time to step in.

_Told you he was a threat…_

Crane is surprised at Scarecrow's timing, and throws a misguided punch, missing by a long-shot. Batman grabs his arm and jerks it backwards, pulling Crane's face up, and taking off his mask. Crane is gasping from the sudden pain in his arm, and barely hears Batman's words.

"Taste of your own medicine, Doctor?" He growls.

_Hold your breath!_ Scarecrow yells a moment too late.

The white cloud whooshes into Crane's face, and he inhales a big gulp of it. The gas burns down his throat and into his lungs and immediately the world takes on a weird shimmer and bounce. He coughs and hacks as it continues to burn, and looks back at the man that holds him hostage. A black demonic thing oozing tar-like liquid out of its mouth is staring at him, and he mentally panics.

_Calm down, calm down! It's not real!_ A voice says, but Crane can't focus enough to figure it out. He's lost in the terrifying stare of the monster holding him there.

The thing hoists him up and holds him by the neck against a wall, and Crane can barely breathe. His eyes are wide with shock, and he feels the icy needles of fear lace his entire body, freezing him in place.

"_What have you been doing here?_" The monster growls. "_Crane!_"

_Take deep breaths, it's not a concentrated dose and you'll be fine._ Another voice says calmly.

He can't concentrate on both of them, his mind is spinning and he can't figure out what's going on.

"_Who are you working for?_" The monster says, and Crane can barely focus on it.

Crane's mind spins back and he tries to find the answer. His stomach is doing flips and he can't imagine what will happen if he gets the answer wrong.

_Ra's al ghul_.. The other voice says. _Tell him that_.

"Ra's…" He breathes. "Ra's al ghul."

The monster growls in his face. "_Ra's al ghul is dead_…_Who are you working for?"_

_Ra's is dead?_ The other voice says… _That can't be…_

Crane tries to think of some other name, but can't. The more he tries, the more he hits a blank wall. All he can think about are the soulless eyes staring at him, and the answering shivers down his body.

"Doctor Crane isn't here right now, but if you'd like to make an appointment…" The wall hits him hard, and he sits in a stupor. The icy waves of panic are still lodged inside him, and he can't move. He glances around, but doesn't see the beast anywhere so he returns to shivering.

_I'm working as fast as I can, Johnny-boy…_

Crane feels some sort of recognition go through him when he hears that nickname, but can't place where he had heard it before.

It could have been minutes or hours that passed, but Crane doesn't recognize the time difference. He hears boots coming down the stairs, and his eyes wheel around trying to find the source. After a moment, he sees a cloudy image of a woman coming toward him and he panics.

"No, Jezebel! Get away!" He shouts. "Take your bird and leave me alone!"

He's pulled to his feet and throws out his arm wildly, making contact with something. His vision is blurry, and he has decided that because there is no option for flight, fighting is his only option. He thrashes around wildly, and voices from both outside and inside his head yell things at him. He can't hear a word though, and swings even more. It's a few moments before he realizes he's holding his mask and he stops to put it on. A face… All he needs is a proper face…

Something hits him from behind, and he hits the ground hard. His arms are pulled behind him, and cold metal is tight against his wrists. He's pulled up, and starts thrashing again, trying to get out of the creatures grasp of him, but everywhere he looks he sees claws and beaks. Something sharp hits his leg and he wonders if the bird's bite is poisonous… Why else would his leg be going numb? And his body… get…heavy…?

Darkness swirls around him, and he falls into it, allowing it to consume his entire being…

* * *

**So what did you think? Any thoughts or critisism is welcomed! (Although praise is also welcomed... ) Thanks for reading/reviewing! :D**


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